Something Borrowed
by Britishmenarehot
Summary: Follows a similar premise to the book something borrowed. Sherlock is Rachel and John is Darcy but a nicer Darcy :)
1. Birthday surprises

Sherlock hated his birthday. It was a ridiculous celebration for sentimental fools. Not him, sentiment was a weakness. It was a flaw. John had convinced him to go to Angelo's for a "quiet dinner", but he had deduced John's real plans ages ago. John was throwing him a surprise party, and he was sure the usual gang would show up. He dreaded this moment when he was supposed to walk in and be surprised. Surely John knew that he knew. But then again, he was an idiot.

His idiot and also his best friend for the past five years. Beyond just mates, they were life friends, or at least that is what he thought to himself. He would never actually tell John or another living soul that. Again sentiment. He trusted John with his life, and he hoped the feeling was reciprocated. Lately though he had begun to feel, what was the word, overshadowed by John's recent engagement to Molly Hooper. Ah Dr. Hooper, the fumbling and shy pathologist who used to fawn over Sherlock. He wasn't sure when the switched happened; he didn't think it was overnight. It was a few coffees here and there, and then continued on into lunch dates. John Watson managed to get Molly Hooper to fall in love with him. Why of all people he had to choose her was beyond Sherlock. He had thought he made it quite clear that Molly was part of his team. His pathologist. His link to St. Barts and his experimental inventory. But when John asked him three years ago if he could pursue Molly, Sherlock didn't know how to respond. He thought he had been obvious. But then again, John clearly didn't see the blatant signs he had put out there. Molly was his pathologist. His.

Sherlock, unable to really deny John anything, told him to go ahead. He thought that Molly would think it too awkward to start up something with his best friend. He was wrong. Apparently they hit it off, after those lunches, they became dinners, sometimes all night dinners, and John would even ignore his texts at 2am asking him about a case file. That really irked him. Then there were the times that Molly came over to 221B, that irked him too. He wasn't quite sure why though. He almost always relegated himself to his room when they began to get kissy on the sofa. He loathed that. He would be trying to have a perfectly normal conversation with John when he would just start kissing Molly. It was quite distracting.

It was last fall, that John proposed to Molly. It was a lavish event with all the regulars around, even Harry. He had invited them all to party so that he could propose. She said yes and Sherlock didn't know what to think (not feel. Sentiment remember). He had obviously been chosen by John to be his best man, and he was supposed to plan his stag party. Whatever nonsense that is. He had never attended a stag party in his life, and he hadn't planned to start now. But Greg made it clear that it was an important task of the best man, and Sherlock knew he would have to go through with it. Give him a dead body any day, that would seem so much more pleasant. Plus he was supposed to write a speech declaring how he supported this whole venture. Marriage. To his pathologist. This was madness. Now he had to pretend to enjoy his 35th birthday in the most undesirable way. A surprise party.

He sighed as he pulled the door open to reveal a darkened room. Really could this be more obvious? Sherlock thought to himself with such disdain.

"Surprise!" John and company yelled. John, maybe a fool, knew that Sherlock was on to him. He knew it was impossible to plan a real surprise party, but Mrs. Hudson had insisted that he do it. After his fake death she felt there was more reason to celebrate his birthday. She didn't think she would see another one.

Sherlock smirked at the small crowd that was at Angelo's.

"Ahh yes that infernal celebration of a year passing in a life." Sherlock said evenly. John rolled his eyes. He knew that Sherlock was annoyed with the celebration.

"What was the point a surprise party with the freak? He probably read your emails about it" Sally said to Lestrade.

"I did not need to, Mrs. Hudson gave away such obvious clues the past few days, that I would have been an idiot not to recognize.", he turned to Anderson not knowing why he would even be here, "next time maybe Mrs. Hudson can throw you a party, you surely wouldn't have a clue"

"Tosser" Anderson said before walking towards the bar.

"A drink?" John said before a fight could begin to brew between Sherlock and Anderson.

"Scotch. Neat"

"I know." John said before walking up to the bar.

"Having a miserable time already" Molly asked coming up to him from across the room.  
"No. I'm not" Sherlock said relieved to see a face that didn't put him off. He actually found her face. Well...

"Liar" she said smiling at him before walking away to join John at the bar. Since dating John she had gained such confidence. Maybe that was why Sherlock was wrangling with thoughts he never thought possible.

"Another shot!" John said clinking a shot with Anderson. Anderson had clearly gotten it in his head to get John wasted. Sherlock felt it was so he could get John on his side. He hated when he tried to do that. Anderson would buy John shots and then try to get John worked up about how poorly Sherlock treated him. It never worked, and Sherlock always had to bear the brunt of it the next day at the flat.

It was getting late, and Sherlock had files to look at and was ready to head towards the door when Molly wandered over to him.

"One more drink?" she asked him, tilting her head slightly. "I know you hate birthdays and sentiment, but we wanted to show how much we do care about you"

"I... " he wanted to say no, he was busy, he had to get to a case.

"Alright one more drink" he said and followed her to the bar, placing his hand slightly on her back to lead her. She jumped a little, feeling his hand on her. She had harbored such strong feelings for him when she met him, but now she was with John. Caring, loving, respecful, and fun, the John Watson who she fell in love with over a year ago. The one who saw her, the one who cared about her. The One. Right? She took a slow breath to steady herself. She was never able to get over Sherlock. But she thought it was so onesided, that she had to move on.

They grabbed there drinks and found a table near where John and Anderson were taking shots.

"So... interesting case you are working on" she said to him as she watched John take another shot. She knew this was probably his tipping point. She would have to take him home soon.

"Yes, yes it seems to be. We won't be able to do much for the next few days given the state that John is in" he said nodding over at said Doctor, while taking a sip of his scotch.

"Yes, I don't know why Anderson is such a enabler for John. Its like John wants to show him that he's just as tough or something"

Sherlock snorted, "John is ten times tougher than Anderson, we all know that"

"Yea. Sometimes though, John seems to think otherwise." She started to stand up ready to take her leave with John, but Sherlock put his hand on hers, "Lestrade can take him home. Finish this drink with me" his eyes gave her a pleading look, which really shook Molly to the core and she had to settle back down in her chair, afraid she would fall otherwise. "Umm" she said unsure what to do. On the one hand she wanted to stay but she knew it was probably a bad idea.

"I should take him home" she said softly getting up. She walked to the bar, whispered in John's ear, and they soon were out the door. She had to get him out of there before his dinner was all over Angelo's floor.

Sherlock watched from the corner of his eye the two of them hailing a taxi, and climbing into it.

"Sherlock!" Lestrade said as he filled Molly's chair.

"Lestrade" he said shortly.

"Why didn't you go after her, all those years ago"  
"I have no idea what you are talking about"

"Yes you do" Lestrade answered, "You are the smartest person I know, and you know what I'm talking about. I know its those pesky feelings that you hate. How are you going to do it?"

"Do what?"

"Let him have her."

"Let? I'm not letting him have her" Sherlock said defensively.

"Right" Lestrade rolled his eyes, "I'm not a total idiot" But Lestrade dropped the topic and they began to discuess the current case. Sherlock noted that it wasn't completely unpleasant talking to Lestrade outside of the station. Maybe he could be a replacement for John when he moved out of 221b. Or would Sherlock have to move out? They hadn't actually talked about it yet.

An hour later Sherlock was beginning to feel tired and most of the group had gone home save Lestrade and Sally, who were giggling at the bar. Sherlock rolled his eyes. Never going to work. He was about to pay/insist on paying his bill, when he saw Molly come through the door.

"Molly" he said to her as she walked up to the bar.  
"Oh hi Sherlock. Seems that John has forgotten his wallet. She looked around and saw it on the bar near where they were sitting"

"I assume he's asleep then at the flat"  
"Passed out on the couch. Didn't even make it to his room."

"Ah classy. " Sherlock snorted.  
"I know. Sorry he was so pissed at your party."  
"It is ok" he said softer than before, "would you stay for another drink?" he asked. He was probably over his limit already, but he wanted to spend as much time with her before the wedding as possible. He knew that once they got married he'd probably be cut out for good. Married folk do that. They become friends with other married folk, and do married things together.

Molly stood leaning on the bar clearly debating internally what to do. "Of course Sherlock" she said finally and he flagged the bartender ordering a glass of red wine for Molly and a scotch for himself.

They found themselves few hours later, alone in the restaurant. Angelo had left leaving the keys on the bar and a note telling them to lock up when they left.

"Oh my!" Molly said giggling nervously, "Where did everyone go?" she looked down at her watched and yelped a little. "Its so late, I need to catch a taxi home!"

"Its three am molly, it shouldn't be difficult to get one now." He picked up his phone to call for a taxi. Of course Sherlock was correct, no less than two minutes later a taxi was waiting outside the resturant. Sherlock locked the doors and they hopped into the cab. He looked at her. "One or two stops?" he asked her.

"Oh I probably should just go back to my place" she said to him, "its late and John is passed out on the couch. No need to try to wake him now"

"Alright, two stops, the first one is in Camden" he said to the cabbie.  
"We can drop you off first, since its closer" Molly offered, "I don't want to be an inconvenience"

"You are never an inconvenience." Sherlock said looking at her through his alcoholic haze. She was so beautiful, he had always known that. He didn't always make it clear, she was no Irene Adler, but she was perfect. He tried to deduce what she was thinking, it was probably the easiest thing to do, but right then he couldn't. Maybe it was the scotch. Or maybe it was his desperation, it was one of the last times he might ever really be alone with Molly Hooper. Yes they would still work together, but soon she would be Molly Watson.

It wasn't long before he did something Molly never thought he would do. He leaned over and kissed her. He started slowly unsure how she would react. But when she didn't resist, he kissed her faster and harder. Running his hands through her hair and pulling her so close to him he could feel her pulse. Definetly racing. But was it love like Irene's? He couldn't tell in the between kisses.

"Yeah, I thinking there'a only going to be one stop tonight" the cabbie said as he drove towards Molly's flat.


	2. Aftermath

AN: Reviews are lovely! and I own just the plot (if that?) Maybe just this version!

Chapter 2

Sherlock felt the sun on his face. That was strange, his room was always so dark. He opened his eyes slightly and saw that he was in a cheerfully decorated, albeit, small bedroom. A small window flooded with morning sunlight, streaking into his eyes, this was definitely not his room. He looked around with his eyes wide open now. He saw a dress draped on a small vanity, and his… he felt under the sheet. Oh no. He took a deep breathe, he did something bad. Very bad.

"What did I do?" Molly asked in a groggy panic, after she woke up feeling Sherlock move around. She grabbed the sheet and laid next to him hiding her most of her face under the sheet, her eyes filled with fear, "I…" she looked around her room. Their clothes were draped all over, and even she deduced what had happened. Just then the phone rang, she looked around it not knowing where it was flung in the heat of passion last night.

"From the sound of it, it is in the front room" Sherlock said to her as he began gathering up his clothes clearly trying to become decent as quickly as possible. The phone stopped ringing and now his phone began to ring. They both knew it was John calling. He didn't answer it hoping that John would just figure that Sherlock was on a case. Molly's phone began ringing again. She had made her self semi-decent and ran into the front room.

"It's him Sherlock, what should I say? What should I do? I am a horrible, horrible person" she began shaking unable to control her emotions anymore than before. He had followed her out to the front room and stood there a little uncomfortably. He had spent a lot of time here when he was "dead", but now it seemed different.

"It'll be fine Molly" he said to her taking the phone from her and leading her to the sofa.

"It's not going to be fine!" she said her tears beginning to form in her eyes.

"I can see how you may think that, but I can keep a secret" he told her, "You know I can". His look was pointed and she knew he would never breathe a word of this to another living soul.

"But it's John. You have never betrayed him, at least to his face, have you?"

"No, this a new thing" he said to her beginning to frown. "He is my best friend."

"What are we going to do?" she asked him.

"Nothing" he said to her

"What? How can we do nothing? Don't you feel… guiltily? Shouldn't John know what kind of woman he is going to marry?" she asked.

"You are the same lovely Molly from last night that you are today. Nothing has changed about you, trust me it will be fine. Just don't tell him. I don't know if he would ever forgive me."

"So this meant nothing to you." her eyes searching his. She hated herself for wondering this but she couldn't help herself.

"I never said that" he said his leaning forward on the sofa placing his hands in his signature steeple pose.

"I… it doesn't matter" Molly said as she looked at her hands, "I'm sorry"

"You are sorry?"

"I should have never put you in this position"

"Molly, my dear Molly, it takes… what is the phrase, two to tango. I don't regret it. But I know you should marry John. You guys are the perfect couple." he said a bit more bitterly than he intended.

They looked at each other unable to tear their eyes away before the phone rang, it was Molly's again. So many things ran through his head, and none of the thoughts pertained to the dead girl in his case. It was full of Molly thoughts, thoughts that he had suppressed since their engagement. What did this mean? Nothing right? He was just a little drunk, and that's what happened, but as the events of last night came flooding back to him, he realized that it had nothing to do with alcohol. He was acting all on his own.

Her phone kept ringing, four missed calls in a row, and Sherlock was beginning to get annoyed by her ring tone. It was a silly tune from the 80's but he could pinpoint it. It must have been something he deleted a long time ago.

"You should answer that, he's going to get worried" Sherlock told her leaning back on the sofa.

"Right" Molly said looking down at her phone not realizing it had been in her hands.

"Hello?"

"Molly! There you are, I have been calling forever! Are you at home?"

"Yes of course John"

"Why didn't you stay over?" he asked confused.

"Oh you were passed out on the couch" she told him, "And then I had to go fetch your wallet at Angelo's"

"Ohhh" she could hear John padding around for it.

"I have it here"

"Oh brilliant. You are the best" he said to her. "Can I come get you and take you out to breakfast for being such a lovely fiancé?"

"No!" she squeaked out a little louder than she should have, making Sherlock cock his head at her, "I mean I can meet you somewhere, I'm actually… at Tescos right now"

"Oh right. Ok. Well meet me at…" and he rattled off an address in the west end. "By the way have you heard from Sherlock?"

"NO!" she said cried out for the second time during their conversation, "No" she repeated herself, "I think he was still at Angelo's when I left"

"Oh ok, he must be on a case, I don't think he came home last night. His door is still open"

"I think he was still talking to Greg when I left, I think about the current case?" she added hoping to make it seem more plausible.

"I'll see you a few" she told him and hung up the phone. She let out a loud breathe, not realizing she had been holding it.

"Right, I should go, listen, Molly. We will figure this out, it will be fine. It'll all be fine" he said and was about to lean in to give her a kiss on the cheek. He thought better of it, and walked out the door without another word.

He arrived back at 221B and was relieved that John had already left to meet Molly. Most likely stopping at the florist for some flowers, to make up for his drunken night out. He laid down on the couch, placed three patches on his forearm and waited for the effects to kick in. He was half dozing by the time John came back from breakfast with Molly.

"There you are!" he said to him, "how is the case coming along? Did you get any further hacking into the victims email?"

"Uh. Oh yes, found everything in their that I needed. She was going to meet a young man, most likely her killer, at a cafe. First date from some online site. Told Lestrade who is tracking down the girls date now"

"Brilliant, man I was pissed last night. Sorry about that" John told him as he sat in his chair.

"Yes you clearly were trying to defend my honor, which isn't necessary" Sherlock told him as he sat up. He still felt drowsy, he didn't get much sleep last night at Molly's and a slight headache was forming in the back of his head.

"Right" John said shaking his head before picking up the paper to read, "by the way, I need you come with me to get our suits fitted for the ceremony"

"Oh right" Sherlock said taking a deep breathe in and laying back down.

"Today Sherlock, the appointment is today" John repeated pointedly, hoping he would choose to remember.

"I hear you" Sherlock said before dropping off on a rare nap.

"How…" John was going to continue but saw that Sherlock was no longer awake. He tilted his head looking at his sleeping friend, and wondered if he had ever seen him actually take a nap before. It was a rarity that Sherlock even slept outside the hours of 1 am and 5 am.

Many hours later, John and Sherlock found themselves being poked and prodded at the tailors of Sherlock's choosing. If he had left it up to John they would be at the Men's Warehouse getting fit by some amateur. Sherlock learned a lot of things from books and observations, but a good suit, that was inherited. His father never wore a suit that wasn't perfectly altered, and neither did his sons. Savile Row knew the Holme's men by name, and he wouldn't let John be married in anything less.

"Right. This place is really nice" John said before he could stop himself. Sherlock had insisted they go there because Mycroft had a significant discount, which John knew it was a favour, and therefore was probably free.

"So did you see Molly come back to Angelo's after I left, or had you scampered off by then?" John asked him as his arms were splayed out on each side.

Sherlock answered him carefully, "I had just left when she got there. I must have missed her, why did she come back?" he asked John.

"I left my wallet at the bar"

Sherlock snorted. "A typical Dr. Watson move after a night out. You should really be more careful John."

"Listen Sherlock, I was thinking about after the wedding" John waited for Sherlock to acknowledge but when he didn't, he continued. "I want to take her somewhere nice, and while we are away, possibly move her stuff to 221c? Mrs. Hudson is allowing me to rent it out with Molly."

"Really? I didn't think Mrs Hudson would ever let that apartment"

"She did a major revamp with that money from the explosion. The place is really nice"

"I see. Well that is good news!" he said slightly gritting his teeth. His one hope was that when John did get married he would have at least a little space from Molly. He thought they would rent something further outside of London. Something with more space, her flat was pretty tiny. He had hoped the distance would put proper space between him and his pathologist. But it didn't seem to be the case, she would be around always now. Always there to tantalize him and tempt him. He would be reminded of all the things he didn't, or did want. He was unsure of very little but this was one an unknown to him. He couldn't deduce his own heart as much as he would like to. He had no experience at it. Irene Adler hadn't even come close to his heart, his brain yes, but never his heart. She was cold hearted, just like him. In the end they would have destroyed each other, and probably found pleasure in it. Molly. Molly was different she was kind, smart, funny, self-deprecating, pretty much everything opposite of Sherlock.

John titled his head at Sherlock, who was deep in thought.

"Are you OK Sherlock?" he asked after Sherlock's tailor had told him twice that he was finished.

"What?" Sherlock finally asked when he dropped out his little Molly revelry.

"You are done" John told him and Sherlock stepped off the box.

"Can you believe I'm actually getting married?" John said to him while they walked out of the store.

"I can believe it, you should too, you asked her" Sherlock replied unsure what he was asking.

"I know Sherlock, I'm just saying. Anyways, we are supposed to write our own vows, and I'm having trouble with them…" John hesitated, he knew Sherlock didn't do sentiment, but he continued. "I need help with them"

Sherlock gave him a look as they got into a cab.

"Honestly John" he said as he sat down.

"I know Sherlock, no sentiment, but you know us both best. Maybe you could give me insight?"

Sherlock pursed his lips and thought. What would he say to Molly if he were in John's position? No matter how absurd that was he was able to piece something quickly in his mind.

"Tell her…" he thought, "Tell her that life without her would be unimaginable. That you would want to wake up everyday to her face, and go to sleep every night with her near you. That you would cherish every laugh, every smile, and hug you shared. That you have become a better person because of her, and that you want to spend the rest of your life, making her feel as loved as possible" Sherlock stopped speaking and looked at John for a response.

"Sherlock, wow" John said his eyes open wide, "I never thought… I never could" His shock was so strong that he couldn't even put a full sentence together.

"I am not a robot John, and I do watch bad telly sometimes" Sherlock told him rolling his eyes, even though he knew that he really did mean the words he told John. He wasn't sure about this sentiment stuff, but he knew that when John said those words, Sherlock's heart would close up forever. The only person who could ever had penetrated it was going to be lost to him forever.


	3. Short ponderings

Chapter 3

The past few days had been hell for Sherlock, his guilt had been eating at him like nothing he had known before. He teetered between anger at himself for betraying John, and anger for not realizing Molly's importance before it was too late.

"John, get me some. John, please." Sherlock bellowed at John. He searched the flat for his secret stash.

"Can't help, sorry." John looked at him smirking slightly at Sherlock's manic state.

"I'll let you know next week's lottery numbers."

John just laughed at him

"It was worth a try"

"You were doing so well, Sherlock, what on earth caused this relapse?" John asked as he put down the paper.

Sherlock glared at him. For a split second he wanted to tell him exactly what was wrong.

_I fell in love with your fiancé._

He huffed and just flopped on his favorite chair.

"I need a case!" Sherlock exclaimed. He was never good with downtime, but after the incident at his birthday, down time was torture. His mind needed to be occupied with any thought other than Molly. No cases meant he was going over all the ways to break John and Molly up.

He already had two ideas.

One was sending John off to some case in Cardiff, to get him out his hair and to plot his take over. That was the sociopath side of Sherlock's brain, always trying to be one step ahead of the enemy, no matter who he/she really was.

Two was sending himself off to some case in Cardiff, to get his mind away from Molly. Self-preservation, this was the sentiment side of him.

John's mobile rang at that moment,

"Hey Molly!" John said warmly answering his phone, and Sherlock's eyes wandered over to his flat mate to assess the conversation.

"Oh wow?!" John said excitedly, "Are you sure? That's fantastic, its perfect timing since we don't have a case right now"

Sherlock's mind began to race; both of his ideas were not going to be squashed. It seemed that John and Molly were going to go away. John hung up the phone and looked over at Sherlock.

"Molly just called, her cousin Henry wants us to come out for a case in Dartmoor."

"A case? What is it? A lost rabbit? Possibly something more boring?"  
"What no?" John said shaking his head, "Her cousin Henry, I've talked to him a few times, his father was killed in the moor, 'Dewer's Hollow' they call it."  
"And…" Sherlock said rolling his eyes

"He is convinced that a large hound attacked his father"  
"Hound?" Sherlock said as he sat down steepled his hands beneath his hands.

"Yes that's what I said" John said, "He called Molly and told her that he saw the hound again when he went back to the hollow last night."

"And what am I/we supposed to detect about this"

"He wants to know if it's related to Baskerville's research center"  
"Baskervilles" Sherlock replied before laying down on the couch closing his eyes.

John rolled his eyes, when Sherlock got like this; he knew that he was being tuned out.

"You go on ahead, I am too busy right now" Sherlock said to him eyeing him through his almost closed eyes.

"You are not!"  
"I am John, the rabbit!"

"What rabbit?" John asked.

"Bluebell! Dear Sherlock Holmes. I can't find Bluebell anywhere. Please, please, please can you help?"

"What? I didn't see that on the blog" John said to him.

"Of course you didn't. It was posted on my blog, despite what you think, people still peruse my site and send me queries."  
"I didn't mean"

"Of course you did, since people have been commenting on your terrible blogs, you feel that it is the only source they go to" Sherlock snapped before rolling over and closing his eyes to ponder his next move.  
"Right. Well I'm going to get the train schedule to figure out when we can go up there"

"I told you that I am too busy" Sherlock said to him.

"I know, for Molly and me," John said to him, which caused Sherlock to roll over. The thought of them on a holiday together, even if it was a case, made his skin crawl.

"Fine." Sherlock said rolling to face to John.

"Fine? What do you mean fine?" John asked

"I'll come with. Call for two rooms obviously, and the next train out there leaves in 2 hours." Sherlock stood up and walked to his room, slamming the door behind him.

AN: Sorry this one is short, but it is setting up Hounds of Baskerville/Hamptons. Lots to come!


	4. Baskervilles

Chapter 4

The train ride felt like a lifetime to Molly. She was sitting next to John, and across from Sherlock. She wasn't sure there was a seat in the entire train that would make her more comfortable. She was shocked to hear that Sherlock would want to come along on this trip. She had tossed the idea out to John a few days ago, but she figured that this would be too mundane for Sherlock to come along. She had been wrong. But then again she seemed to be wrong about a lot of stuff when it came to Sherlock. She was wrong to think that he would ever have feelings for her. She was wrong to think that he would never kiss her. The fantasy of Sherlock suddenly fell short now to reality. She had a taste of what was like to love Sherlock, now she couldn't get it out of her head. Every time she kissed John, Sherlock's eyes burned in the back of her brain. She felt so ashamed. So guilty. So alone.

Strange, she didn't think she would feel so alone. She couldn't tell anyone about this, especially Mary, who had a crush on John, although she would deny it to her dying day, but Molly's intuition told her otherwise. The guilt was eating her alive, but she wanted more. She wanted to be with Sherlock again, just the two of them, and see what would happen. Would they be able to recreate that night's heat and passion? If they didn't, maybe she was meant to be with John. Maybe she just needed to get it out of her system? But what if it was… better than the first time? It is never that great the first time, although she couldn't remember anything wrong at all with their time together. She realized, that he must have been studying her for a while, and knew exactly what to do.

"Molly… Molly" John said waving a hand in front of her face; she had be staring absently out the window for the past ten minutes.

"Earth to Molly" John repeated before she blinked her eyes and focused in on her fiancé.

"Sorry" Molly said, "Got lost in my thoughts for a second"

"Anything you want to share?" John asked her his head tilted to the side with concern. He was worried Sherlock's presence had set her off. She was always so talkative on their holidays together, from the moment they got they left the flat till the moment they got back.

"No… no" she said quietly, "Just thinking about the last time I saw Henry."

"And when was that?" Sherlock asked her avoiding making contact with her eyes, but watching her closely.  
"It's been a long time, maybe two or three years, he has been a recluse really the last few years. I'm not sure what has changed, I mean, I don't know why he called me. I think it was because he found out that I was friends with you and John." She paused for a moment trying to recollect her memories of Henry before continuing, "He has always been funny, but the last phone call he sounded down right manic. I hope we can figure this all out for him. He was such a fun kid, until his parents passed that is. Understandably really, he was so young when they were gone. He was a good person to talk to after my father died. He was able to give some comfort to me."

Molly closed her eyes for a second to gather herself up, she always felt a little weepy when she talked about her father. She missed him so much. John placed his arm around her and squeezed a little. Molly smiled at him gratefully and then looked at Sherlock whose eyes were glued to John's arm, and her smile fell. She could see those cold calculating eyes become a bit sad or remorseful, she couldn't tell for sure.

"Just to be clear, what are we trying to solve?" Sherlock asked her reclaiming himself quickly.

"He is convinced there is a huge hound terrorizing the village, and him. It killed his father. But he told me the last time he went there; he began to remember other details. I want him to tell you though, I don't want to get it wrong"

"That is a good idea," Sherlock said before turning his body towards the window indicating he was done talking.

"I'm sure we will get to the bottom of this" John said to her. She nodded and stared back out the window.

John shrugged his shoulders as Molly silence continued. He read the paper but in the back of his mind, something was nagging him. Sherlock and Molly were both so quiet. Something was wrong and he just didn't know what it was.

The Cross Keys Pub was located not too far from Henry's house, which John felt they could have stayed there. But Sherlock insisted that they stay at the Pub, together. Two rooms, but it was clear that they were the only ones who were staying the night.

John and Sherlock began asking around the pub about the great big hound, and Molly saddled up at the pub bar. She was going to get a glass of wine in her as quickly as possible. She needed it to deal with Sherlock and John, and the situation she got herself into.

As they began to piece some of the mystery of the hound together, Sherlock began to think of ways to get John away from him and Molly. Nothing seemed too plausible, but he hoped that during the course of the investigation, he would need John to go somewhere. Anywhere.

They found Molly at the bar of the pub as the dinner crowd had thinned out and it was just a few locals. She had a few glasses of wine and her cheeks had a slight pink hue to them.

"Can I get you another drink?" Sherlock asked her as he leaned up against the bar catching the bartender's attention.

"Please," she said smiling at him, feeling a lot… looser than before.

"Right, two scotches, and a glass of Pinot Noir" he told the barman, and he turned his back to face the room. There was a gaggle of girls, about Molly's age eyeing both him and John. He smirked to himself. He glanced to his left to see Molly and John talking close together. Obviously sharing an inside joke. Something he wasn't privy too, which wasn't much. With a bit of a huff, he took the drink poured for him and wandered over to the group of girls.

"Hello! I'm Sherlock." He said as he approached them, "I know funny name, just wait till you hear my brothers name"

"What's his name?" the blonde one asked, she had locked eyes on him from the moment he walked into the bar.

"Mycroft"

"Oh my" she responded with a smirk.

"What's yours?" Sherlock asked, cringing at this insipid conversation.

"Darcy" she responded, "And this is my friend Rachel, we are from New York. Just visiting our friend Ethan, who is on a horrid date." She pointed at a couple in the pub.  
"Interesting," Sherlock said to her, "I didn't know that American's frequented the countryside often"

"We don't" she replied, "But Ethan lives here, so we have to. I would rather be in London shopping!"

"What about you Rachel?" Sherlock asked as he pulled up a chair, "Do you prefer the country or the city"

"I miss New York," she said smiling slightly. He deduced that she was the one with the brains and the heart between the two of them. A lawyer, corporate, single, thirty, originally from a smaller town, she was the only child. Darcy was the wild one, a PR girl, and party girl, engaged but looking to have fun, lacked empathy, thirty-one (although lies about that), oldest child. Soon Darcy was occupied with another guy at the bar, and had gone off to talk to him.

"So do you love him?" Rachel asked him seeing him stare at the couple at the bar.

"What? God. Why does everyone ask that?" Sherlock said exasperated.  
"A simple no works too," Rachel told him, "You keep watching them, and I figured I'd ask the question"

"Right" Sherlock said backing down a bit, she didn't know the incessant amount of times he had to deny his love for John.

"So it's the girl then?" Rachel asked, and waited for a response, when she got none, she just raised her eyebrow a bit. "I know how it feels," she added before taking another sip of her drink.

Sherlock gave her a quick nod, showing a bit of solidarity in their loneliness.

"Well it has been… interesting" Sherlock said to Rachel before standing up and walking to his room. He had to get out of there. Lying in bed he stared at the ceiling, it was hard watching his pathologist with John.

The next morning they went exploring the local town and the surrounding areas. They soon pulled into Baskerville Military Base, and with the ID Sherlock stole from Mycroft, they found there way in. Molly trailed the two men inside, definitely feeling out of place. She always was there to help with cases, but that was in the comforts of Bart's morgue, and laboratories. This was in the field. She didn't want to impede on their process, and tried to stay in the shadows.

"Ahhh Stapleton" Sherlock said to the women they encountered in one of the labs, "Why did Bluebell have to die?" Sherlock asked her. "Was it because she glowed in the dark?"

John looked puzzled, how does a rabbit glow in the dark he wondered, but Molly leaned over, "Probably a florescent gene, most likely a jelly fish or something similar"

John looked impressed with her knowledge of gene manipulation.

"Something Sherlock showed me once in a book" she added before blushing. It was one of those nights after she had first met him. He had been milling around the morgue for the past few days, and she finally got up the courage to talk to him.

"I'm Molly, Molly Hooper," she said as quickly as possible.

"Yes I know" Sherlock said to her. "I brought you this" he shoved a book in her hands; it was book on human genetic engineering.

"I…" she was so surprised.

"I saw you looking at some similar books the last time I was here, and figured you would like this," he said before walking out the lab.

Slowly there friendship grew from there, and soon she was letting him take body parts home. She knew she probably shouldn't do it, but some how he knew exactly how to ask her. She would give in too quickly. It wasn't until two years ago they actually met up outside of the lab. He had said that he would buy her dinner after he finished examining the results of whipping a dead body. 

"I'd love to!" she had responded, too quickly she thought. They had met a pub near Bart's and he brought his friend John Watson. Her heart broke slightly; she realized he was bringing John for her. It wasn't a date, at least not with him. Looking back at it now, she wondered if he really did bring John for her. He wasn't one to set people up. But she figured he did, and she did hit it off with John. Of course anyone would get along with John, friendly reliable John. She hadn't thought of that night in a long time. She wondered if she thought it was a date with Sherlock, would things be different?

AN: So There is still more from Baskervilles!


End file.
